Chapter 10: Damasen the Dad

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Word count: 5 640 words.

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Chapter 10: Damasen the Dad

Percy was in and out of consciousness for what felt like only a few moments, but in reality, was days. Several times when Percy was awake but not aware of his surroundings, all he could remember was a gentle hand feeding him soup and then carefully putting him back to bed. At one point, someone scooped him up like a ragdoll and set him on something soft and comfy.

Beside Percy, something moved and padded over the comfy material to lay next to him. It was like a vibrating pillow. Staring up at the shadows dancing across the ceiling far, far above him, Percy felt delirious.

He had no idea if he was dreaming or not.

"What will I tell the boy?" A deep voice asked.

"Nothing." The second voice was feminine in nature. It sounded familiar, but Percy was still fighting to keep his eyes from slipping closed. He couldn't focus on anything. "He will be scared when he wakes. We shouldn't put him on edge anymore than he already is."

The man grumbled and Percy heard the scrape of a chair on stone. "He should be. Caution never hurt anyone down here in the Pit."

"Damasen," the woman chided.

The name was familiar. Why was everything familiar?

"And what about Night? What if he cannot guide himself past Night?" Damasen - that was his name - was saying Night like a proper name. He sounded worried.

"He will." The woman sounded sure of herself. "He is the hero of half-bloods, I'm sure of it. He can do it."

Damasen growled and thumped something. "Why?" He demanded. "What has this little demigod given you? Giants, titans, monsters, almost all immortals ... we are meant to be foes of the gods and their children, are we not?"

"Then why did you heal the boy?"

Damasen sighed. "I have been wondering that myself." There was a pause, as if he was trying to make up his mind. "Perhaps because the boy was stupid enough to end up in the Pit, or perhaps ... I see myself in this demigod. Is that ridiculous?"

"Not at all," the woman said. "In fact, I think it's sweet. The world needs more people like you."

"He resilient to have made it so far," Damasen admitted. Percy decided he liked Damasen's voice. It was putting him to sleep. "That is admirable of a mortal. Still, how can I help him any further? It cannot possibly be in my fate."

"Perhaps," the voice admitted. "But do you like your fate?"

"What a question! Does anyone like their fate?" Damasen sounded bitter.

"You do not need to like your fate to accept it. You can also defy your fate. Despite what you may think, fate is not always clear cut. It is not always decided from the beginning. Fate and destiny are funny things like that."

"Huh." There was a shuffling sound.

"Damasen," the voice said, "do you remember the sun?"

The shuffling stopped. Percy heard Damasen exhale slowly, sounding pained. "Yes. It was yellow. And when it touched the horizon, it turned the sky beautiful colours."

The woman hummed, encouraging the giant to continue.

"I miss the sun," Damasen admitted. "The rest of the stars, too. I would like to say hello to the stars again. The sun was beautiful, but the stars ..." He spoke the word as if he had forgotten its meaning. "Yes. They made silver patterns in the night sky." Then something was thrown to the floor with a thump. "Bah! This is useless talk. I cannot -"

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